


Tidings of Comfort and Joy

by grunge_mermaid



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Christmas Party, Dominion War (Star Trek), Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:40:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28281804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grunge_mermaid/pseuds/grunge_mermaid
Summary: No one wanted to go to the senior staff’s regular Family Dinner, especially if it were a Christmas party. Sisko, however, had made it a direct order. It was December on Earth after all and while the Siskos didn’t celebrate the holiday as a rule, it had been known to happen. Especially in hard times. He knew the party wouldn’t really fix anything but maybe it would be just enough to ease the atmosphere of despair permeating the station and at least start the healing process.The most recent battle of the Dominion war hit the crew of the Defiant a lot harder than expected, especially Julian.
Relationships: Julian Bashir/Elim Garak
Comments: 9
Kudos: 56





	1. chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story originally had a much larger scope but December just kind of evaporated? So I cut it down to pretty much just Garashir. This takes place in the vague nebulous region of the end of season 6 but Ziyal is still alive because she deserved better (there was a lot of Jake/Ziyal because they are precious cinnamon rolls who deserve to be precious cinnamon rolls together)
> 
> Not beta'd, be gentle.

No one wanted to go to the senior staff’s regular Family Dinner, especially if it were a Christmas party. Sisko, however, had made it a direct order. It was December on Earth after all and while the Siskos didn’t celebrate the holiday as a rule, it had been known to happen. Especially in hard times. He knew the party wouldn’t really fix anything but maybe it would be just enough to ease the atmosphere of despair permeating the station and at least _start_ the healing process.

🎄

In his quarters, Julian was grumpily dressing in the outfit Garak had recommended: dark brown trousers, cream silk button-up, and a forest green cable-knit sweater. He couldn’t argue with the tailor’s choices even if he wanted to: the cream silk really did complement his golden skin and the green sweater accentuated his eyes. Fighting the urge to pout like a petulant child about being forced into attending a party, he headed out to the living room for inspection. “Well?” He challenged.

Garak quirked an eye ridge at the younger man. “You chose to wear the sweater?” He asked cautiously.

“Obviously,” Julian snapped and rolled his eyes. When he saw the hurt flicker across Garak’s face only for a fraction of a second, he sighed and tried to soften his expression. “Sorry.”

Garak huffed, prompting Julian to cross the room and gently place a hand on his arm, speaking softly. “I’m sorry, Elim. What I meant to say was ‘of course I’m going to wear this sweater, you knit it for me and no matter how foul of a mood I’m in, I’m impressed and grateful and proud and—“ Julian used a single finger to turn Garak’s head toward him— “I love you.”

“But you’re still angry?”

“Yes.” He sighed again. “But not at you.”

All week they had been fighting. Not tongue-in-cheek arguments and Cardassian flirting, but knock-down drag-out screaming matches that threatened the fabric of their relationship, usually over insignificant nonsense. The first was over Garak agreeing with Captain Sisko that Julian needed time off (every subsequent fight was added to the list of proof that Garak was right). Then there was the smell of rokassa juice at breakfast, Garak asking why Julian hadn’t told him about the party, Garak researching old Christmas traditions, Julian tripping over wayard yarn in Garak’s quarters, the temperature of Garak’s quarters…the list continued ad infinitum. Julian couldn’t seem to feel anything since his return except rage and emptiness. Even when Garak kissed him, nothing.

They had only been a couple for a few weeks now and for most of that time, Julian had been on the front lines with the Defiant. It was right before they were shipping out that Julian had stopped by Garak’s shop on his way to the ship and declared his love. Dax had been collecting goodbye messages for the crew as usual and, as usal, Julian didn’t have a message to contribute. Normally that didn’t bother him—he was usually going into battle with everyone who mattered to him and, statistically speaking, if he didn’t come back neither would they. But this time he knew he only had a 7% chance of returning and Garak was staying on the station.

Julian hadn’t even made a conscious decision to do it. He had been gathering supplies from the infirmary before heading to the Defiant when he saw Garak alone in his shop. He simply marched in, put down his medical cases, and kissed him. By the time Garak had realized what was happening, Julian had broken off the kiss, proclaimed his love and given a pretty speech about how he realized his feelings. For the first time in his life, Garak was properly speechless. He could only respond by returning the kiss and promising to look after Kukalaka if Julian didn’t return. After that, Julian recorded a message for Garak every time his Cardassian boyfriend remained on the station, usually a litany of reasons why Garak’s opinions on human literature are wrong and always ending with “look after Kukalaka for me.” But Garak hadn’t heard any of those messages and Julian prayed he never would.

But now, all he could do was apologise for the way he had been treating his boyfriend this past week. Garak had his I Don’t Believe You And You’re An Ass face on.

“You know I’ve had a rough week, Garak,” Julian started.

“I do.”

“And I’ve been horrible to you-“

“You have, indeed.”

“-and you didn’t deserve any of it-“

“I certainly did not.”

“Elim, are you going to keep interrupting me or are you going to let me apologize?” Julian almost smiled. He still felt hollow and empty, but he could recognize Garak trying to goad him in a way that usually did make him smile.

Garak stepped back and made a magnanimous gensture. Julian did not miss the twinkle in his eyes. He was a proud man and would not let Julian get away with treating him in a way he didn’t deserve, but he wasn’t _actually_ angry with him over it, which was a relief. “Please, my dear, continue.”

“Oh…um…well, that was it, I guess? Except for: I really am sorry and I love you and I hope you’ll forgive me.” Garak gave him a tiny nod. “Good. Because there’s something we need to discuss before we go to this godawful party. This is our first event together and so far only Jadzia knows about us, so how do you want to proceed?”

“That depends. Do you plan on consuming alcohol tonight?”

“Yes, probably.”

“In that case, I suggest we be forthcoming. You tend to get rather…amorous when intoxicated. And chatty.”

Julian opened his mouth to refute the accusation, but no matter how indignant he was, he couldn’t argue that it wasn’t true. Except maybe to say that under normal circumstances he was always chatty, not just when drunk. But that wouldn’t help. And he was pretty sure that he could drink all the kanar in the quadrant tonight and still feel like an emotionless robot. “Do you _want_ to tell everyone like that?”

“I have to admit, the idea of a big pronouncement does seem a little… indecorous.”

Julian nodded and thought for a moment. “Alright, how about this: we won’t make any statements but we won’t lie if asked, and we’ll keep PDA to a minimum since you don’t like that very much anyway but we won’t be overly formal with each other either. Discreet but not secret?”

“That sounds perfectly sensible, my dear.”

“Good. We’ll do that then. And I promise I’ll try to behave if I get drunk.” Julian kissed Garak lightly as a matter of course. “So…what do you think of the outfit you so expertly picked for me?”

Garak circled Julian, examining his partner from every angle, adjusting his collar and cuffs, smoothing his shoulders.

“Perfectly adequate, my dear.” He said with a wink and a peck on Julian’s cheek. Straightening his own tunic and presenting himself for inspection, he asked, “And what about me? Do I look suitably festive?”

Julian pretended to scrutinize every centimetre of Garak’s outfit. He was wearing simple black trousers with a royal blue tunic covered in exceptionally delicate embroidery that glittered in the dim lighting like veins of gold in quartz. Garak always looked immaculate, but he had never looked so…glamourous. Julian suddenly felt foolish for all of the fights he picked over Garak’s preparations for the party. In less than a week he had made both of their outfits, purchased and immaculately wrapped gifts for everyone, researched the origin of the holiday, and put up with Julian’s hair trigger temper. No one had ever gone to that much trouble for him before. He still didn’t want to go to the party, but letting Garak’s efforts go to waste struck him as churlish and ungrateful. He forced a smile but answered truthfully:

“You look marvelous.”

Julian picked up the bag of presents and took Garak by the hand. Even if everything else about tonight turned out to be a disaster, at least he had Garak by his side. And the food would be phenomenal.

As they approached Sisko’s quarters, Julian’s facade began to slip and Garak could see the worry etched on his not-so-boyish-anymore face. The poor man could not hid his emotions if he wore a Breen helmet. He was exhausted, haunted, and if Garak wasn’t mistaken, tears were starting to well up in those usually twinkling green eyes. He put his arm around Julian and gave his shoulder a firm but gentle squeeze before reaching for the door chime.

Julian grabbed his hand. “Wait…I…I ca—I don—“

“In case you’ve forgotten, my dear, attendance at this party is mandatory. However, I do not believe a minimum time requirement was specified. We can leave any time you wish, but we _do_ have to go in first.”

Julian nodded solemnly. Garak took him by the shoulders and placed a feather-light kiss right in the centre of his forehead before pressing the door chime.


	2. chapter 2

The doors to Sisko’s quarters opened with a slight _woosh_ , fillinf the corridor with an overload of festive smells, sounds, and warmth. The room was decorated with a variety of traditional Christmas ornaments. A small potted pine tree courtesy of Keiko sat on a side table, draped in baubles and garlands with a glowing model of a starship on top. The windows were festooned with paper chains and there were twinkle lights and glitter-coated knickknacks everywhere. The room was steaming up from the cooking elements near the table, creating a cozy mood that was designed to make anyone who walked through those doors feel at home. Sisko was tending to the steamed pudding while Jake finished setting the table and Kasidy sampled the mulled wine, adding a little more cinnamon when Ben’s back was turned.

“Right on time, Doctor, Mr Garak!” Sisko said jovially, handing them each a mug of mulled wine as they entered. “Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas, sir.” Julian pasted on a fake grin. It was going to take time for the atmosphere to work its magic. For his part, Garak responded with a brief nod before sniffing his drink suspiciously and taking a tentative sip.

The door chimed and swished open to admit Dax and Worf. Worf placed a crate of gifts next to the table with the tree, where Julian had stashed his offerings, before investigated the mulled wine. Jadzia didn’t have a chance to even say hello to anyone before Julian handed his mug to Garak and pulled her into the tightest hug he thought she could handle.

“I’m sorry, Jadzia. I’m so, so sorry.” He had never failed to provide care to a patient before and knowing how long it took to get Dax into the infirmary kept reminding him just how horrific the battle was.

Jadzia placed her hands on either side of Julian’s face and gently pulled his head back, forcing him to make eye contact with her. His eyes were swimming with tears. So were hers. “Julian, it’s okay, I’m okay,” she said in a tone that you only argued with at your own risk. Julian nodded meekly. He was sure Jadzia was trying to convince herself as much as she was him, but he knew better than to point that out.

They were startled out of their embrace by Miles clapping Julian on the back. Molly was perched on Jake’s shoulders giggling as he bounced and swayed around the room, Yoshi was toddling around trying to grab at things but the adults were deftly moving things out of his way with barely a glance, and Keiko was deep in conversation with Garak about Earth’s conifers; clearly the O’Briens had been here a while. Ziyal, Nog, Kira, and Odo had also arrived in the interim and were…just _how long_ had he been crying into Jadzia’s shoulder?

“Alright, mate?”

Julian straightened up and composed himself. “Ye-“ He paused, surprised by how much better he felt. He still may not be in the mood for a party but he felt like a pressure valve had been released, like he could breathe a bit easier. “Actually, yeah.”

Jadzia excused herself to dry off her shoulder. Julian was about to apologize for their fight in the holosuite two days ago when Sisko announced that dinner was ready.

The guests made their way towards the buffet to load up their plates before taking seats at the table. Sisko stood at the head, ready to carve the turkey with Kasidy to his left. From there going clockwise, Miles and Keiko were enjoying being Yoshi-free, Nog was lamenting the lack of insects on the menu, Julian was finally taking off his sweater, Molly was excitedly telling Ziyal everything she new about Christmas while Garak listened intently with the softest expression Julian had ever seen him wear, Jadzia was handing out Christmas crackers, Worf sat silently like a stone statue, Jake was surreptitiously stealing glances at Ziyal while trying to carry on a conversation about human crime novels with Odo, and Kira was bouncing Yoshi on her knee while the baby giggled with delight.

The turkey was revealed and Sisko made short work (and a big show) of carving it. Everyone passed their plates down as the conversation turned to the holiday itself. Molly had just asserted that every human used to celebrate Christmas. Ziyal looked to the nearest human—Julian—and asked, “is that true?”

“To an extent,” he started diplomatically, knowing better than to tell a child as keen and determined as Molly that they were wrong (because he would definitely lose that argument). “By the time organized religion had faded away on Earth, Christmas had become a purely secular holiday that almost everyone celebrated. There were some people who still didn’t because it wasn’t part of their faith or heritage, though. But, by the time the Federation was founded, it had pretty much disappeared.”

“Except for the occasional festival,” Miles interjected, “especially in ancient villages where they still had churches.”

“And my house,” Kasidy added, sounding like it wasn’t necessarily a good thing.

Julian tried to focus on Kasidy’s memories of her childhood Christmases and Jadzia’s salacious story of a party Emony once attended with Leonard McCoy, but he was distracted by too many things. The food was too good, the room was too warm, his mood was all over the place, and Garak was too handsome. Instead of listening, he found himself watching Garak listening. He was so fascinated by these bizarre human customs that varied so widely yet were accepted as universal and Julian clocked every microexpression.

“And what about your family, Doctor?” Garak asked. “Did you ever celebrate Christmas?”

“Hm? Oh! No, we didn’t.” Julian realized he must be the only human who hadn’t shared. The good mood that had been starting to bubble up evaporated like a switch had been flipped. The last thing he needed to think about, sitting here with his found family, was his biological family. He took a swig of his drink. “Even if my childhood hadn’t been… _complicated_ … my family was Muslim so they never did Christmas. Even when it became completely secular, they didn’t see the point.”

He excused himself to refill his mug of mulled wine before he completely ruined the evening while the topic at the table seamlessly shifted to Nog praising the capitalistic nature of the holiday. Julian had nipped the conversation in the bud before it could really upset him or make him say something he’d regret, but it was enough that he needed to take a few very deep breaths while pouring his drink. He reminded himself that no matter what his parents had done to him, he was surrounded by the tightest-knit family he had ever had, that everyone in this room was alive, and that he had more to be grateful for than he felt currently.

He looked up from the punch bowl to find Garak watching him with concern and he felt his neck and shoulders unclench. Something had definitely shifted during the party because, as upset as he was about getting upset by such a simple and innocent question, he had no desire to start a fight with Garak over it despite starting fights over much more insignificant things recently. The way Garak was looking at him was so gentle and unguarded that he could feel his anger starting to melt away. It was being replaced with an uncomfortable combination of love and anxiety, but feeling anything other than anger felt better to Julian at this point. He had to concede that the party was definitely working as intended.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this chapter ends in a kind of awkward place but it was the least awkward option. Sorry. but the next chapter is already up so it’s even less awkward!


	3. chapter 3

By the time Julian returned to his seat, Sisko was serving dessert and Molly was trying to explain flying reindeer to the perplexed aliens. It wasn’t long before the party drifted away from the table and the jazzy instrumental versions of Christmas carols were replaced with a wide variety of vocalized tracks.

Feeling overwhelmed, Julian wandered over to Garak in a comfy armchair like a comfort seeking missile. Garak sighed contentedly as Julian settled on the arm of his chair. An arm sneakily snaked its way around Julian’s waist, providing the tangible anchor he needed in order to at least try to relax. As Garak’s thumb mindlessly stroked his side, Julian analyzed the psychology of physical touch as a mood stabilizer. He knew he was a very tactile person and needed physical affection (and so did Garak even though he wouldn’t admit it), but the almost instant relief of contact always surprised him. Even though this physical affection was catalyzed by alcohol, Julian knew that if Garak felt safe enough to do it—and safe enough to allow himself to get even the teeniest bit drunk—he was also safe. He was comforted by how casually Garak volunteered his affection and how natural it felt, surrounded by people who didn’t yet know about their relationship but comfortably enough that discretion wasn’t a primary concern.

“Garak, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this relaxed.”

“The temperature is finally tolerable, my dear. And I fear that mulled wine may have a slightly more deliterious effect on Cardassians than it does on humans.”

Julian chuckled as his boyfriend’s hand curled itself further around his slender waist. He lightly ran his hand over Garak’s hair, down his neck, and brought it to a rest on his far shoulder as he leaned in and said, “if you’re still using words like ‘deliterious,’ darling, I think you’re doing just fine.”

Not immune to the effects of the spiced drink, Julian rolled up his sleeves as the warmth of the wine mixed with the warmth of the room. He could feel the flush in his cheeks as he stretched languidly across the back of the chair, like an extremely long-limbed cat.

“As for you,” Garak started with a sniff and a poorly disguised sneer, “perhaps you should take off that sweater. It is quite warm in here by mammalian standards.”

“Absolutely not.” If Julian were being honest, he was boiling, but he was immensely proud of Garak’s handiwork and was determined to show it off for as long as he could stand to, even if he didn’t feel like it was penance for treating his boyfriend so terribly in recent days. From his current position, Julian could easily plant a stealthy kiss or two along Garak’s neck and aural ridges if he were so inclined. Unfortunately for Garak, he was.

A barely perceptible twitch in Garak’s shoulders told Julian that this was beyond the limits of propriety. Julian whispered an apology as Jake and Ziyal joined them, discussing traditional Christmas decorations. Garak greeted them with a small nod while Julian casually inclined his head in their direction but miscalculated and lost his balance, slipping down between Garak and the back of the chair.

Garak rolled his eyes and sighed. “Really, doctor, if you can’t sit on a chair like a normal person,” he huffed as Julian hoisted himself up, using Garak’s shoulders for leverage.

“Sorry, darling. More wine?” He grabbed their mugs and headed for the punch bowl while Garak immediately restarted the young pair’s conversation about popcorn garlands to distract them from _darling_.

*

As Julian reached the bar, Keiko pulled him into a tight hug. “How are you, Julian?” He heaved a great sigh as a response. Anyone with half an eye could see he wasn’t okay, but his somewhat good mood was too precarious to jeopardize by putting everything into words and definitely bringing the evening to a crashing halt.

Keiko patted him on the back, supportively at first but changed to a gentle stroking of his sweater. “What is this, Bajoran alpaca? It’s beautiful…wait, this is _hand knit!_ Where did you get this?”

“Garak made it.”

“Garak… _knits?_ ”

“He does now.”

“He must really love you if he learned to knit just to make you a Christmas sweater.”

Julian’s face softened and flushed. Of course Keiko would be the first to say anything and of course it would be the exact right thing. Instead of taking the drinks back to his partner, he allowed himself to get sucked into a conversation about his relationship and how they got together. It wasn’t until Garak appeared at his side making a sarcastic comment about getting lost that he realized he and Keiko had been talking so long that their drinks were now cold. He poured them new mugs as Keiko excused herself to mingle.

Despite it being well past her bedtime, Molly showed no signs of tiring soon. She was weaving her way through the forest of legs, carrying a small sprig of flowers. When she approached Julian and Garak, they were debating the literary merits of _The Night Before Christmas._ Julian’s sweater was draped over the back of a chair somewhere and he had unbuttoned the top three buttons of his shirt, his curls flopping in a swoop across his forehead, wilting in the heat.

“What purpose does it serve to tell children such ridiculous stories about mythical beasts and strange men who break into their homes?”

“Elim, it’s a fairytale, it’s just fun—oh, hello there!” Julian looked down to see the little girl standing on tip-toe, arm stretched over her head. He scooped her up and kissed her on the cheek, making her giggle. Noticing Garak’s confused expression, he explained with a laugh. “It’s mistletoe, you’re supposed to kiss under it. For good luck!”

“Why?”

“I…well, I don’t know.” Julian’s shoulders fell with a sigh as he furrowed his brow, clearly thinking far too hard about the origin of kissing under the mistletoe.

Molly, enjoying her newfound height, was now holding the mistletoe over Garak’s head. Julian’s eyes twinkled mischievously. He glanced around furtively—no one was looking, they were all busy with their own conversations—and sneaked a quick peck on Garak’s cheek. Julian and Molly shared a conspiratorial giggle before he placed the little girl back on the ground so she could find other couples to encourage.

“Doctor, need I remind you—” Garak whispered, affronted.

“No, Garak, you needn’t.” Julian rolled his eyes in mock annoyance. “No one saw except Molly, we’re fine. Besides, we agreed on ‘discreet but not secret’ and if there was ever a time to get Miles’ blessing, it’d be right now.” He nodded towards his friend, face red with warmth, joy, and scotch, singing _Auld Lang Syne_ with Sisko.

Across the room, Molly was now holding the mistletoe over Jake and Ziyal, who seemed to be engaged in the purest game of chicken in the universe.

A rustling and gentle _fwump_ across the room indicated to everyone that not only had Yoshi woken up again, he had found the presents everyone had forgotten about.

As the gifts were opened and the room continued to warm up, literally and figuratively despite the cooking elements look since turned off, some of the guests began to fade. Nobody was getting cranky, not even Worf. It was more of a cozy, dreamy haze falling over the crowd. They were safe, they were happy, they were surrounded by every kind of love imaginable, and wasn’t that the whole point of the evening?

🎄

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> things that happened at the party but didn’t make it into the final draft because I drastically reduced the scope:  
> -Worf pouting in a paper crown  
> -Jadzia getting drunk and telling Jake inappropriate stories about his dad (Ziyal thinks Jake is adorable when he’s embarrassed)  
> -Jake reading The Night Before Christmas to Molly and Yoshi (and Odo) (Ziyal thinks this is also adorable af)  
> -Jake walking Ziyal home
> 
> **  
> I now have a Tumblr! You can find me @grunge-mermaid if you're so inclined


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